Chapter 23

Lucy White prepared a lavish spread—seven dishes and a soup—that left the guest stars raving over the fragrant feast.

"Now this is real food. What we had earlier was practically animal feed," Daniel Miller remarked, savoring a piece of braised pork with his eyes half-closed in satisfaction.

"Good thing I didn’t eat much at lunch. Now I get to enjoy Lucy’s cooking," William Jones said between mouthfuls, his cheeks stuffed as he polished off his second bowl of rice.

"This is Michelin-star level," Robert Lee praised, biting into a crispy sweet-and-sour spare rib glazed in tangy sauce before giving an approving thumbs-up.

Lucy smiled faintly. "I’m glad you like it."

Cooking had always been her passion, and in her past life, she had trained under master chefs for years. Seeing everyone enjoy the meal warmed her heart.

The livestream chat exploded with comments like "I want a bite!"—viewers could practically smell the aromas through their screens.

After dinner, the group gathered in the courtyard to sip tea and digest. Lucy brought out a bundle of straw and began weaving with nimble fingers.

"Wow, Lucy, you can do this too?" Daniel crouched beside her, eyes wide with amazement.

The straw danced between her fingertips, quickly taking shape as an elegant straw hat. William tried it on. "This is incredible—better than store-bought ones!"

Aside from Lily Green’s forced smile, the others praised her genuinely. Lucy accepted the compliments graciously, crafting a few more hats and leaving them on the stone bench for anyone to take.

[Lucy’s so talented!]

[Are those hands blessed by fairies?]

[Officially a fan—her personality’s amazing.]

Late that night, after the livestream ended, Lucy was the last to head upstairs. At the stairwell, a figure blocked her path.

"We need to talk," Michael Johnson said, his voice rough.

Lucy sidestepped him. "There’s nothing to discuss."

"I’m sorry." He caught her wrist. "I didn’t know the trending scandal would get you so much hate."

It was a belated apology—one she had waited for in vain in her past life, even as she stood on that rooftop. She pulled free. "The damage is done."

"I only asked you to confirm the photo because I didn’t want rumors with Lily," Michael explained urgently. "I never meant to hurt you."

He stepped closer, pleading. "Can’t we start over?"

"No." Her reply was absolute.

Michael stiffened as if doused in ice water. "Why? Just because of this?"

"Not just this." Lucy met his gaze evenly. "You grew colder after we started dating. Now that we’ve broken up, we’re both free."

"I wasn’t cold!" His voice shook. "I just... wasn’t good at showing it."

He reached for her, but she evaded his touch. "I’ll change. I’ll treat you like before. Give me one more chance, please?"

"No." Lucy retreated another step. "Michael, we can’t go back."

Seeing his reddened eyes, she remembered the despair of that rooftop. Some wounds couldn’t be erased with an apology.

"If you really care, stay out of the trending mess," she said, turning away.

Michael rushed to promise, "I’ll do whatever you say."

"Goodnight." Without looking back, Lucy shut her door, leaving Michael alone in the hallway—abandoned, like a lost child.